Page 1 of Hockey Halloween
TROPE: Blind Date (Gone Wrong)
COSTUME: Mummy
She was waiting for her blind date. Then fate interfered.
Ford
I didn't even want to be at this Halloween party. But I agreed to one drink to keep my teammates happy.
Then I see her. She’s wrapped up in the perfect package; a vision in her mummy costume, with a laugh that makes the crowded club fade away.
The best part? She doesn’t know who I am. And for once, I want to keep it that way.
Except when the truth about my hockey career reveals itself, everything changes. Now, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to prove that even though I’m the wrong date, I’m the right guy.
Willa
I came out tonight because my friends set me up. Instead, I found him.
He’s charming, quick-witted, and way too handsome for his own good. A bit of adventure in my otherwise quiet, history-filled world.
He draws me in instantly, yet I’m not sure if it’s the man I’m falling for or the mystery he represents.
When I learn the truth about who he really is, I start to wonder if our connection was real at all, or if it still could be.
Ford
You know what totally sucks? Being stuck in a crowded club during Halloween weekend when all you want to do is rewatchThe Mummyin your hotel room while eating your weight in junk food. So what if it's the beginning of the season and the team nutritionist would hang you from your balls if they only knew what you ate in secret.
But here I am, both bored and irritated, thanks to my teammates who promised a night out in Manhattan would be “so much fun”. Sure, there are worse ways to spend your night off, but I’m not feeling it. Not at all.
A guy dressed as a slice of New York pizza shoves past me, nearly knocking me over. If that doesn’t sum up how random tonight is, I don’t know what does.
Adjusting the blue bandana around my neck, I glance across the dance floor. My linemates, Beck and Lloyd, are living it up; laughing and taking selfies with mostly female fans who clearly recognize them. They love the spotlight while I usually assume women have ulterior motives, keeping my distance in situations like this. It's been over a year since I last had sex, for fuck’s sake. Maybe that’s part of the problem…or maybe I’m just not in the mood.Yeah, that’s it.
Scanning the room, I don’t see Westerholm, the right winger ofour first line. Last I saw him, he was chatting up a dark-haired woman in red. If he ditched without a word, I’ll be pissed.
I’m about to finish my drink and bail myself when a sweet, feminine voice on my left cuts through the noise of a busy club.
“Nice costume. Let me guess...are you Rick?”
I turn towards the speaker, finding myself face-to-face with a stunning, curvy blonde in a short, figure-hugging white dress. She has lots of gold-colored jewelry on and her limbs are wrapped in bandages, making her amummy. That’s surprisingly fitting, considering my costume.
Her brown eyes crinkle at the corners as she adjusts a stray strip of fabric dangling from her arm. For the first time in ages, a flicker of interest grows deep inside me.
“He was my inspiration. Even if someone called me Indiana Jones instead.” I lean against the bar. “And you must be my new nemesis?”
Her laugh is quick and genuine. “Oh, you get points for that.” She tilts her head, sizing me up. “Can I ask you something?”
Well, shit. She must have recognized me. Here we go.
“Shoot,” I mumble, ready to be disappointed.
“Did you pick that costume because you likeThe Mummy, or was it an excuse to look cool?”
Thank god she didn’t ask what I do or how much money one season makes.
“What’s wrong with looking cool?” I counter.
